


Morning After

by kuwdora



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Morning After, Warm Fuzzies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-03
Updated: 2009-06-03
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1723757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuwdora/pseuds/kuwdora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for comment_fic prompt of "the first apology."</p>
    </blockquote>





	Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Written for comment_fic prompt of "the first apology."

Mohinder rose from the bed and shuffled to the bathroom, trying to ignore the stiffness in his hips and shoulders from the night before when Sylar was him, testing his limits, wanting to know exactly how much he could give and take. Mohinder carefully rolled his shoulders a few times and shifted his weight, finally relieving the niggling pressure on his bladder that woke him in the first place. After he washed his hands and face, he left the faucet running long enough to fill the cup and stare at himself in the mirror, eyeing the faint bruising that shaded his neck. He shut the water off and carefully ran his fingers along the purpling skin and began brushing his teeth.

He heard the door long before it opened and and Sylar appeared behind him, still dressed in the borrowed sweats and faded grey tank that made it more difficult to see him in the slanting shadows of the predawn hour. Mohinder took a few steps to the side, allowing him room to maneuver. Once inside Sylar leaned against the closed door. Mohinder continued to brush in silence and Sylar watched him with sleepy features that were so refreshing he wanted to grin. Instead, he leaned over the sink to spit and rinsed his mouth. When he straightened, Sylar was right behind him, his hands on his hips, head pressed between his shoulder blades, the pressure just enough annoy him. Mohinder swayed a little to try and shake Sylar off, but Sylar’s arms tightened around his waist.

“Why are you awake? It’s not even 6 in the morning,” Sylar said into the back of his neck with warm breath and a tentative kiss, obviously ready and willing to convince Mohinder it was better idea to go back to bed. 

Mohinder dropped the toothbrush back in the cup, the plastic bounce echoing in the small bathroom.

“Because I am,” Mohinder said simply, wiping his hands and face with the towel. 

“Really,” Sylar murmured and reached underneath Mohinder’s arm to grab the toothbrush and cup and filled the cup with water. Mohinder detangled himself from Sylar and took the toothbrush back while Sylar drank.

“I feel like I can barely move after last night,” he said. Sylar lowered the cup from his lips and a wave of bashfulness swept across his groggy features. Mohinder took the cup and placed it on the sink and gathered Sylar up into his arms. “Don’t even apologize,” Mohinder said and kissed him on the lips. Sylar hummed and turned Mohinder by the shoulders and began kneading the muscle careful to skirt the pressure points around his neck that already had enough of Sylar’s hands.

” _Oh,_ ” Mohinder said and braced himself on the sink closed his eyes, leaning into Sylar’s firm touch. Sylar’s quiet laugh in his ear made Mohinder shiver, or maybe it was the way Sylar ground his knuckles between his shoulder blades. “If that's your idea of an apology, maybe you _should_ apologize and continue _to—_ ,” Mohinder said under his breath, “apologize,” he hissed happily.


End file.
